Where does one start...
Last weekend is a time in my life I hope never to repeat. I'm not sure I can find the words to describe it, but I should probably try (continuing the idea of this being a form of self-therapy and all that).
I'm sure I'm not the first, and I know I won't be the last, but let me just say this:
Watching over someone you love when they are so deep in depression that they honestly believe that everyone they care about would be better off with them gone is the most frightening experience I think I will ever have.
I've seen her completely lost in fear, and so anxious that she dismantles the house and tries to put it back together in a precise pattern. These events broke my heart, but nothing has ever frightened me more than trying to reason with someone for whom reason makes no sense. Fighting to stay calm and rational in the face of such a thing is so difficult, but oh so important. It's going to take me a long time to come to terms with this experience, but I take comfort in the fact that she's now somewhere safe, with people that can hopefully help her to manage her situation. It's not easy accepting that I can't help her, and that I need to step back to let the professionals do so, but I know I can't do much more than stop her sliding deeper. Here's to hoping that this helps her find the weapons she needs to fight back and regain her sense of self.
